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WITCH  SONG 

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(DAS  HEXENLIED) 


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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  WITCHSONG 

(DAS    HEXENLIED) 


THE  WITCHSONG 

(DAS  HEXENLIED) 


BY 
ERNST  VON  WILDENBRUCH 


ENGLISH    VERSION    BY 

CARTER  S.  COLE,  M.D. 


NEW  YORK 

1916 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
CARTER    S.    COLE 


t 


HEDWIG  REICHER 

AT  WHOSE   SUGGESTION,   AND    BY 

WHOSE    INSPIRATION   AND    CO-OPERATION, 

THIS   TRANSLATION  WAS   MADE 

A    POSSIBILITY 


62390S 


FOREWORD 

The  present  version  is  a  rendition  of  the 
text  rewritten  and  rearranged  by  von  Wil- 
denbruch for  the  musical  setting  especially 
composed  for  the  poem  by  Max  Schillings. 

It  differs  very  slightly  from  the  text  as 
it  was  first  offered  to  the  German  public. 
Some  lines  were  omitted,  a  few  new  lines 
introduced,  and  the  order  of  the  lines  occa- 
sionally changed  to  give  a  better  musical 
and  dramatic  sequence. 

It  is  quite  remarkable  that  a  poem  of 
such  exquisite  beauty  and  dramatic  inten- 
sity should  have,  for  so  long  a  time,  re- 
ceived no  English  version  that  would  bring 
it  to  the  attention  of  the  English-speaking 
people. 


THE  WITCHSONG 

At  Herzfeld  abbey,  the  prior  told 

How  brother  Medardus,  grown  weak  and 

old, 
Could  scarcely,  he  thought,  outlive  the  day : 
"Haste,  brother  confessor,"  said  he,  "away 
And  bid  him  confess  his  sins  to  thee, 
Although  I  know  that  few  they  be: 
The  cloister  fifty  years  to-day 
He  serves,  and  in  its  shades  grew  gray: 
By  fasts  and  penitences  he, 
Prepared,  awaits  eternity: 
Of  all,  he  is  the  holiest 
And  will  th'  Almighty  please  the  best." 
The  priest  then  knocked  at  Medardus'  door — 
A  silence  answered,  nothing  more: 
The  confessor  crossed  the  threshold  well 
And  strode  within  Medardus'  cell: 
And  hour  on  hour  the  hours  fared; 
f  1  1 


The  monks  in  wonder  looked  and  glared: 
"Medardus,  blameless  in  words  and  acts — 
What  can  he  reveal  about  sinful  facts?" 

The  vesper  bells,  with  muffled  call 
To  chapel  summoned  brothers  all: 
They  bowed  their  heads,  they  knelt  around. 
For    brother    Medardus    low    prayers    re- 
sound— 
But  list !  there  comes  from  far  away 
A  pitiful  voice  in  a  mournful  lay. 
The  prior  rose  up  from  the  ground: 
The  monks  gave  ear  with  care  profound. 
"In  Medardus'  cell  the  song  is  ringing — 
It  is  Medardus  who  is  singing!" 
They  heard  and  asked :  What  can  that  be  ? 
Those  are  not  prayers  and  litany: 
That  sounds  like  sinful,  worldly  prate: 
And  see !  and  see  !  within  the  gate 
The  confessor  hastes,  by  terror  pressed ! 
*'The  Devil  is  the  cloister  guest! 
Medardus  to  the  Tempter  fell — 
Medardus  feels  the  clutch  of  Hell!" 
[21 


The  prior  lit  the  holy  wand 
And  held  the  candle  in  his  hand: 
The  monks,  with  tapers  lit,  beside 
The  prior  walked,  with  measured  stride: 
The  walls  and  halls  re-echoing  rang 
The  plaintive  chant  the  brothers  sang: 
*'From  sinful  lust,  from  Satan's  might. 
By  grace  protect  us,  God  of  Light." 

The  cell  was  open — white,  haggard,  thin, 
Medardus  lay  on  a  poor  cot  within, 
His  folded  hands  in  fervent  prayer, 
His  eyes  with  livid  fire  aglare: 
From  stammering,  quivering  lips,  a  song 
Unending,  wild,  was  forced  along: 
A  song  so  strange,  a  song  forlorn, 
Of  longing  love,  of  blasphemous  scorn — 
As  if  from  far-off  lands  the  air 
Brought  perfumes  captivating,  rare: 
It  was  a  song  unlike  a  note 
That  ever  came  from  human  throat — 
A  wail  of  woe — then  frenzied  zest. 
With  terror,  rapture  filled  each  breast. 
[3] 


The  monks  their  holy  candles  waved: 

"Fly,  Satan,  let  his  soul  be  saved !" 

Their  crosses  swayed,  their  censers  swung — 

Medardus  all  the  wilder  sung; 

And  deep  each  heart  atremble  rang 

The  sinful  song  Medardus  sang. 

On  the  monks  there  stole  like  a  longing 
dread 

A  deep,  gnawing  grief  for  their  lives  mis- 
led: 

They  thought  of  the  things  they  now  had 
not, 

Of  the  days  of  their  youth  long  since  forgot; 

And  slower,  still  slower  the  sound  of  the 
choir — 

Then  silence — they  listened,  enthralled  by 
his  fire. 

The  prior,  pious,  zealous,  and  gray. 
With  horror  filled,  stood  looking  away: 
To  brother  Medardus  he  called  in  a  tone 
In    which    righteous    wrath    was    plainly 
shown : 

[  4  1 


*'Wouldst  thou  the  brothers  lead  astray? 

Begone,  damned  soul,  to  Hell  away!" 

And  see !  from  his  cot,  Medardus  arise ! 

A  luminous  glint  his  face  glorifies, 

His  vacant  eyes  at  distance  stare. 

As  if  by  a  vision  enraptured  there: 

Then,    suddenly,    tears    down    his    cheeks 

streaming  ran: 
To  the  brothers  Medardus  to  speak  began: 
**I  once  was  a  priest,  was  pious  like  you, 
Devoutly  I  read  my  breviary  too. 
With  a  fear  and  a  fervor  that  rose  to  a 

flood, 
For  young  were  my  limbs,  and  hot  was  my 

blood : 
The  flaxen  locks  hung  down  from  my  head 
As  if  streams  of  gold  were  overspread; 
And  when  first  they  did  my  tonsuring, 
It  was  like  they  mowed  the  meadows  in 

Spring. 
That  was  the  time  when  our  native  land 
Was  held  in  the  grip  of  Satan's  hand: 
To  lives  of  shame  the  women  were  turned, 
[5] 


And  witches  were  bound  at  the  stake  and 

burned. 
That  time,  there  came,  as  I  sat  there. 
In  the  dead  of  night,  my  lamp  aglare, 
A  rap  on  my  door,  a  knock,  a  shout — 
*We  need  you,  father,  make  haste,  come 

out!' 
The  night  was  dark,  and  hollow  the  squall 
As  I  was  led  to  a  bastion  wall 
Deep    under   the   earth,    down   a    slippery 

flight, 
Till   it   seemed   that   Hell   must  heave  in 

sight. 
A  torch  within  my  hand  was  placed; 
In  a  wall  of  stone,  a  hole  I  faced: 
'A  witch  to-morrow,  in  fire  aglow. 
Atones  for  her  sins:  to  her  now  go: 
A  blessed  death  for  her  prepare, 
And  save  her  sinful  soul  by  prayer ! ' 
The  bowels  of  the  earth  I  sought. 
And  in  my  throat  my  breath  was  caught: 
From  somewhere  came  a  grating  sound 
Of  clanking  chains,  and  grief  profound; 
[  6  1 


And  in  the  darkest  corner  lay, 

As  in  its  lair  a  beast  of  prey, 

A  woman  cowering  and  bent. 

Her  head  against  the  damp  wall  leant: 

The  torch  I  fastened  to  a  rung 

That  from  the  ceiling,  hanging,  swung: 

'Thy  face  upon  me  turn,'  I  said: 

'Come,  sister,  here,  be  not  afraid.' 

I  saw  how  her  ear  my  greetings  drank — 

How  hand  after  hand  from  her  face  she 

sank: 
Her  head  she  turned,  then  looked  to  see, 
And  on  her  knees  she  crawled  to  me: 
Her  naked  arms  my  knees  embrace, 
Her  eyes  are  rooted  on  my  face: 
I    looked    down,   the   torch,  with    dancing 

light, 
Illumined  her  beautiful  face  outright: 
I  felt  my  heart  melt,  warmed  by  hers — 
My  eyes  were  filled  with  scalding  tears; 
My  lips  were  mute,  as  pity  crept, 
And  silent,  sobbing,  we  both  wept; 
And  when  my  tears  she  saw,  at  last, 
[7] 


With  trembling  arms,  she  held  me  fast; 
A  sob  deep  out  of  her  bosom  sprang, 
From  stammering  lips  a  whisper  rang: 
'Thou  canst  still  weep?     Thou  weepest  for 

me? 
As  I  love  the  good  Saviour,  I  love  also 

thee.' 
I  was  seized  by  fright  at  her  words  of  dis- 
grace : 
'Recall  the  hour:   remember  the  place 
Thy  body  to-morrow  in  flames  shall  burn: 
Repent,  confess,  to  Heaven  turn ! ' 
With  startled  mien  she  said  to  me: 
'Why  must  I  do  penance?     From  guilt  I 

am  free. 
My  parents  are  dead:  alone  in  a  dell, 
With  grandmother,  I  was  wont  to  dwell: 
My  grandmother  knew  many  herbs  that 

cure. 
And  many  a  potion  prepared  for  the  poor: 
But  grandmother,  bound  at  the  stake,  was 

burned 
As  a  devil's  witch — so  I  have  learned. 


An  ancient  song  my  grandmother  sang, 
I  learned  from  her  hps,  so  sweetly  it  rang: 
She  told  me  it  came  from  a  far-away  land 
Whose  people  love-magic  could  understand : 
I  sang  it,  but  knew  not  its  meaning:  then 
I  was  seized  by  the  hands  of  heartless  men 
And  thrown  into  prison — this  dungeon  cell: 
They  said  that  it  was  the  worm  of  Hell 
That  sang  out  of  me  to  corrupt  the  race: 
So  to-morrow  I  burn  at  the  stake  in  dis- 
grace.' 

Her  tremulous  lips  to  my  ear  closely  press, 
Her  eye  is  imploring,  in  fright  and  distress; 
On  mine  her  heaving  bosom  lies — 
'Oh,  save  me!'  said  she.     'Oh,  save  me!' 

she  cries: 
'To  live  is  so  sweet,  and  death  is  so  dire, 
And  dreadful  the  anguish  to  perish  by  fire: 
No  creature  have  I  offended  or  grieved, 
No  sin  have  I  done,  nor  witchcraft  con- 
ceived : 
The  hearts  of  men  are  just  like  stone, 
[  9  1 


But  thou  art  good,  thou  still  canst  moan: 
The  jailer  sleeps,  the  door  is  free. 
Come,  let  me  fly,  and  fly  with  me ! 
We'll  tread  so  softly  that  none  may  hear, 
The  torch  we  shall  smother,   no  light  to 

fear; 
The  turret  gate  leads  out  to  the  field, 
No  one  can  see,  to  none  must  we  yield: 
When  break  of  day  the  cocks  have  told. 
We  shall  be  far  away,  in  the  distant  wold: 
The  forest  is  dark,  the  trees  are  dense, 
I  know  a  place  that  no  one  shall  sense: 
I  know  a  region — the  very  spot 
A  treasure  lies  hidden  and  long  forgot: 
We  shall  search  and  find  it:  thou'lt  take 

it  away, 
Afar  we  shall  fly,  and  there  we  will  stay. 
In  a  foreign  land,  just  thou  with  me. 
And  ever  and  ever,  just  I  with  thee. 
No   woman   hast   thou   held   close  to   thy 

breast, 
Nor  hast  thou  the  love  of  a  woman  pos- 
sessed: 

[  10  1 


Richer  the  love  that  thou  shalt  know 
Than  any  man  on  earth,  I  trow: 
The  stars  are  fading,  the  hours  race  by. 
It  is  time,  it  is   time!     Oh,  come,  let  us 
fly!' 

Her    heated    breath    like    the    storm-wind 

blew, 
Her  white  arms  round  my  neck  she  threw; 
Her  hair  as  dark  as  the  wings  of  night. 
Her  limbs  encircled,  voluptuous  sight ! 
With  reeling  head  and  with  writhing  heart, 
Ecstatic,  lustful  passions  start; 
I  bent  lower  down,  her  kisses  I  sought, 
Then,  trembling,  I  felt  as  if  back  again 

brought: 
*Thou   kissest  a  witch,  thou   blessest  her 

crime : 
No  share  in  God's  favor  hast  thou  for  all 

time.' 
The  word  upon  my  lips  was  dead: 
I  flung  her  from  my  heart  and  fled, 
By  terror  driven  from  her  dwelling — 
[  11  1 


Her  screams  with  despair  and  grief  were 

w  elling : 
She  fell  to  the  earth,  she  lay  on  the  stones, 
And  after  me  followed  her  sobs  and  her 

groans : 
But  I  fled  on,  out  into  the  night, 
On  my  knees  in  prayer,  awake  until  light, 
Till  the  night  had  passed,  till  the  horror 

was  born — 
And    the    horror    came    at    the    break    of 

dawn. 

The  heaven  blazed  with  morning  flame. 
The  people  swarming,  hurrying  came: 
In  a  field  far  out,  where  logs  were  massed. 
The  stake  stood  dark,  by  gloom  o'ercast — 
And  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  pyre — 
There  stood  she,  awaiting  her  torture  by 
fire. 

Like  fluttering  birds  lost  out  at  sea. 
So  shifted  her  eyes  round  anxiously; 
Then  nearer,  with  crucifix  I  drew — 
[  12  1 


Her  searching  gaze  held  me  in  view — 

And  see !  and  see,  how  furtively 

Her  head  she  bows,  slightly  nodding  to  me, 

A  smile  her  lovely  face  upon, 

Like  the  fading  light  of  the  setting  sun ! 

The  flaming  brand  the  torchman  swung. 
Her  languorous  eyes  on  mine  were  hung; 
The    flames    the    branches    dry    wrapped 

round, 
Her  staring  eyes  held  me  spell-bound: 
Like  dust  disturbed,  the  sparklets  shivered, 
Like  falling  leaves,  her  two  lips  quivered; 
And  shortly,  asudden,  I  heard  a  ringing 
From  burning  brush — she  had  started  sing- 
ing ! 

Like  Spring  showers  rustling  in  the  night. 
So  gripped  me  her  song,  with  its  sweet, 

blessed  might; 
As  if  air  exotic  from  alien  blooms 
Had  borrowed  and  brought  their  rich  per- 
fumes : 

[13] 


As  though,  said  a  voice  in  my  ear,  thou  shalt 
never 

Enjoy  the  deUghts  thou  hast  lost  forever. 

The  flames  enveloped  her  naked  feet, 

She  gave  a  last  greeting — a  nod  discrete: 

The  black  smoke  rising  around  her  swirled, 

Her    pitiful    song    with    the    smoke    was 
whirled : 

(Deep  roared  the  flames  to  heaven  spring- 
ing, 

Like  tremulous  bells,  she  kept  up  her  sing- 
ing) 

My  ears  with  both  my  hands  defending, 

*That  singing !  that  singing !     When  is  it 
ending  ? ' 

I  turned  with  a  shudder  and  fled  from  the 
spot — 

That  heart-breaking  voice  would  leave  me 
not: 

Wherever   I    hastened,    and   whence   sped 
away. 

That  song,  that  song,  was  with  me  alway; 

And  whether  asleep  or  awake  in  prayer, 
[  14  1 


All  day,  all  night,  and  everywhere 
Since  then — it  is  fifty  years  to-day — 
I  hear  it  forever  and  ever  stay  ! " 

(Medardus  looked  wild  and  arose  from  his 

cot.) 
*'I  hear  her  again:  perceive  ye  it  not? 
Up  the  walk,  through  the  door,  it  draweth 


near 


She   treads   on   the   threshold — is   here !   is 

here ! 
Thou     woman     pure — a    witch    so    they 

claim, 
Thou  lovely  form  that  they  branded  with 

shame. 
Ye  luscious  lips,  ye  eyes  languid,  tender. 
Thou  sweet,  welling  bloom  of  limbs  sport- 
ive, slender, 
Thou  rapturous  bliss,  once  offered  to  me. 
Which,  disdaining,  I  thrust  into  Eternity, 
Thou  offerest  the  blessing  my  crime  cast 

aside, 
For  me,  heaven's  door  thou  openest  wide: 
[  15  1 


After  fifty  years  of  penance  and  pain, 

I  come  and  forever  with  thee  shall  remain  !" 

He   raised   up   his   arms — his   limbs   rigid 

stay: 
"Medardus  is  dead,"  the  brothers  low  say: 
They  knelt  in  a  circle:  the  gray  dawn  broke 
Through  the  windows — the  prior  spoke: 
"What  human  eyes  cannot  grasp  nor  see, 
To  One  above  shall  manifest  be: 
It  is  he  that  hath  said,  'Judgment  is  mine.' 
Go,  brothers,  pray:  to  judge  is  not  thine!" 


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